


Home for the Holidays

by rareandviolentsnowflake



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BuckyNat Secret Santa, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Marvel Universe, archer's peppermint patty, gingerbread
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:48:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28667238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rareandviolentsnowflake/pseuds/rareandviolentsnowflake
Summary: Bucky returns to New York feeling less than merry.Luckily Natasha is there to build them a gingerbread house.Bucky returns the favour with hot-alcoholic-chocolate.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15
Collections: BuckyNat Secret Santa 2020





	Home for the Holidays

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Charlotte_Tail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlotte_Tail/gifts).



> Written for the BuckyNat Secret Santa 2020.  
> I was hoping to make this fluffier than it is, my brain did not cooperate and I ended up really enjoying this version of the story. I thought about making it longer as well except everything I added after, I was not vibing with. I hope you all (and especially Charlotte_Tail) enjoy it as well.
> 
> Happy Holidays xx
> 
> p.s. Spotify playlist listened to during writing: christmas music but its lofi by Audrie Storme

Bucky stared at the empty couch tiredly. Three weeks dealing with civil unrest on the streets of Washington immediately after the presidential election was too much for his 100-year-old bones. He felt bad for leaving Steve there, even though he insisted he could deal with it. The neo-Nazis believing Buck would be on their side and becoming unyieldingly violent towards him after he showed them otherwise was the swift proverbial blow to his solar plexus to force himself onto the quinjet all the way back to a quiet living room. 

He’d dropped his go bag in the doorway to the living area, throwing himself down on the barely worn in sofa, sinking in slowly, allowing himself to be swallowed by the marshmallow couch. Steve and Sam didn’t appreciate the overt softness of all the seating and bedding—no longer used to it after their time serving. Bucky sometimes felt he should also hold some sort of aversion to it, and yet, it was the thing he welcomed almost instantly. 

What—or more appropriately who—he welcomed back truly instantly was stumbling her way into the adjoined kitchen, brown paper bags filling her arms past her eyes. 

Natasha grunted slightly setting the contents of her grasp onto the counter space, smiling quietly to herself. Beginning to unpack the bags, Bucky could see it was all baking ingredients. 

“What’s on the menu? Cake?” he asked.  
Natasha flitted her gaze to him briefly. “Gingerbread,” she replied simply.

Huh. Christmas cookies. He had forgotten he’d been in the capitol long enough for December to slip through unnoticed. And this year, well, he had promised himself and his government-appointed shrink that he would try and enjoy it. 

Bucky forced himself to stand, striding over to Natasha and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. “Want some help?” He mumbled.

Nat let out a huff of a chuckle. “Do you know how to bake a house?”

“Well, I’ve set some buildings on fire, does that count?”

“Only if they were made of dough.”

Bucky grabbed her hands and kissed them softly. “Teach me, then. I’ll try not to burn it down, scouts honor.”

Natasha turned to kiss him in return, lips finding his. His hands came up to cup her face. Soon after she removed them. 

“Get the baking sheet.”

“Huh?”

Nat spun him and gave him a light slap on the ass. “The oven tray. Cabinet in the corner.” She pointed in a vague direction. “And line it with baking parchment. I’ll measure out the stuff.”

An hour of Nat politely bossing Bucky around and him repaying her patience with brief touches and kisses, jazz playing sweetly from the record player they salvaged from a weekend flee market.  
Natasha continued with the gingerbread, cutting shapes to form a house and a small ginger family while Bucky messed around with hot chocolate and the bar cart in between “helping” with the baking.

“What on earth are you doing, James?” She’d turned curiously after she heard glass break.

“I’m—shit. I’m making a drink,” he explained.

Nat frowned. “Only one? It’d better be for me,” she muttered.

Bucky laughed. “I saw it on that video site.”

“Pornhub?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “The one we pay for.”

“Oh. Netflix. Which show?” she asked.

There were a few beats of silence and then Bucky appeared in front of her smiling proudly, holding two mugs of what she could smell was alcoholic peppermint hot chocolate. “The show about the shitty spy agency, the alcoholic guy makes this drink,” he presents her one mug.

Nat sets down her knife and takes the mug in her hand, clinking it with Bucky’s. “Cheers.”

He drinks his eagerly, clearly impressed with himself. She just watches him. How he had improved over the last few months after leaving Wakanda, surprised her. She was sure he would want to stay there in the serenity of a quiet farm on the edge of a hidden country. And yet, he had jumped at the beckoning of Fury to take a position as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent. Slowly, they built a life from the scraps of memories he had, her filling in the blanks along the way, setting up in Bed Stuy in the apartment she and Clint lived in before he found Laura. The hustle and bustle of New York she’d thought would be too much, too loud, too full, too stimulating. She worried that he was hiding his discomfort to make her happy, even though she would have gone anywhere with him. But soon she noticed that he was just unfazed by it. It baffled her that after all he had been through—more than her—he simply only felt the joy he had when he lived here as a boy, working at the docks, winning his three-time welterweight championship, boxing at Fogwell’s gym in Hell’s Kitchen, misadventures with Steve. She felt an immense amount of pride for him, and gratitude in whatever deity was above them that she could be with him again.

Nat noticed Bucky looking at her expectedly. “Are you going to try it?” he asked quietly. “Or do—do you not like peppermint?” His voice was suddenly very small.

“What? No! No, I love peppermint. And chocolate,” she reassured him between patronizing giggles.  
Nat took a long drink from her mug. It hit her delightfully. The crème de cacao and hot chocolate almost completely hid the schnapps from her tastebuds. “Tony would love this,” she said, taking another big gulp.  
Bucky was watching her, amused. “Should I make more?”

Natasha set down her mug and pulled him to her, climbing over the counter, avoiding destroying her forgotten gingerbread village, and kissed Bucky, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she felt his hands pull her legs up around his waist. “You should make them from breakfast,” she whispered.  
Bucky chuckled, his chest rumbling against hers. “I think that Archer guy would approve of that too.” 

Nat hummed along to Duke Ellington while Bucky swayed them. It was just them, in their bubble, away from the world while in the middle of the busiest cities in the world. Bucky felt a weight lift off him with Natasha in his arms.

“I think,” he says, “This is the best part of Christmas.”

Nat lifts her head from his shoulder. “What?”

“Us. This. Just us. Here. In New York.” He smiled. 

And it was true. Throughout the rest of the year, they were either on mission apart or in debriefs together. Neither of them liked Washington, so when Bucky declined Steve’s offer to him to stay at his brownstone in Georgetown to stay in Brooklyn, Natasha couldn’t hide her joy. Work kept them overlooking the Potomac for 8 out of 12 months. So, these moments, the ones where they were them and nothing else, no mission, no charade or façade or longing for each other, where they could be together and nothing holding them away. 

Natasha understood why New York was home for him. And why it was home for her. Because he had her she had him and all they remembered of each other. 

“C’mon, put that family on the fire so I can dance properly with my girl,” he says as he spins her into the kitchen to lay out her gingerbread city for baking.

Natasha laughs. “You sure you still know how to move those feet”?

“Hurry your ass up and we’ll see, doll.” Bucky winks.


End file.
